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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30035361">bye bye my blue</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account'>orphan_account</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Eventual Fluff, Floch Forster is a Sweetheart, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Jean Kirstein is in Denial, Jean Kirstein-centric, Light Angst, Minor Floch Forster/Eren Yeager, Multi, Slow Burn, main flojean with side ships</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 00:40:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,535</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30035361</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“What is blue?” A realist nouveau, Yves Klein, once asked. “Blue is where the invisible becomes visible. Blue does not have a dimension, it transcends dimensions.”</p><p>Just like what his little sister often says, Jean Kirstein has never tasted the feeling of being alive. He always hoped for something that he can’t see; he always reached for something that can’t be found in his mother’s homemade cooking, or in his girlfriend’s studio apartment. Something… just something. He’s not sure what it is, but one day, he’ll get there.</p><p>Or, the one where Jean falls in love, but not with his girlfriend.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Floch Forster/Jean Kirstein, Pieck Finger/Jean Kirstein</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>bye bye my blue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>inspired by more happy than not by adam silvera, and yerin baek and iu's discographies. originally written and posted in indonesian (now archived, reuploaded in english).</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Summer had always been Jean’s least favourite season. Every vacation, he begged his parents to let him stay at home. He felt the most comfortable there, and there was hardly ever anything to do in the countries they visit, so why bother going on long flights just to do nothing? But of course, he always got the same answer: “Jean, you know we can’t leave you alone here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It always bothered him. He was twenty one years old. Twenty-one! He could already drive (of course, his overprotective parents said no); he could legally live alone. What else is there to wait? He was not just some kid anymore, so why were his parents treating him as if he hasn’t grown a single bit since seventh grade?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Jean has never hated summer more than he did after last year’s summer vacation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He went to the Seoul International Fireworks Festival, which was held at Yeouido Hangang Park. He didn’t care about fireworks, but everyone else (read: parents, aunt, and Sasha) did, so he had no other choice but to go with them. To him, fireworks were just fireworks. Fireworks that could be seen elsewhere, at any other time; there was nothing special about fireworks because they were all the same. It’s not like they had some sort of deep symbolic meaning, or made you instantly happier than before you saw them. No, they were just fireworks. Only colors—mostly yellow, orange, and red—in the pitch black sky.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The fireworks they displayed proved Jean right. Sure, they were beautiful, and there were many of them—far more than Jean could count. But he could see the same fireworks in Jakarta—in fact, he had seen them. They were not something new, nor were they very different from the ones Jean and his family had for New Year’s back home. Again, they were just fireworks, just colors in the sky.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yet for some reason, it was almost as if all of Seoul was gathered in one place. The MRT station was so crowded that the police had to be there to clear the roads, both before and after the event. The streets were so congested that even more than a kilometer away from Yeouido Hangang Park, there were still crowds of people walking all over the place, blocking the area so that cars couldn’t move. It’s a cliché, but the place really looked like a sea of people; Jean could hardly see that far in front of him, and he towered over most of the crowd at his height of 190 centimetres. Jean and his family even became stranded after the event until 10pm, when the area finally began to clear up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One thing that set Jean apart from all those people was that he went out with his family. Very few people were like him. Most people came there with their friends or those closest to them, for a Saturday night in a park with a fireworks display. Or maybe the fireworks didn’t matter. Maybe it was just another day, going out with their loved ones. Friends linked their hands, laughing every few seconds; shouting </span>
  <em>
    <span>“ya, yeogi, yeogi!”</span>
  </em>
  <span> when the fireworks were on the other side of the park. A boy, who appeared to be Jean’s age, arrived at his friends’ picnic blanket with three pizza boxes and a few beers, and they cheered so loudly that Jean could swear that the whole park heard it. It made Jean feel “out of place.” Here was a park full of groups of friends, and here he was, lost in it with an old woman, and Sasha who was straying further and further from them in her search for food.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The day after that, he went to the cafe for lunch. He didn’t feel like eating much, but he sure as hell did believe that he needed coffee to recover from being stranded at a Seoul hotel for two hours. The cafe was beautiful, with wooden interior, white walls, and accents painted in the prettiest pink Jean has ever seen. He loved places like this, and he wished there were more in his hometown—something new, not just another Starbucks. Most of the people there were studying or working, and again, he was wishing for something that he couldn’t see. He hoped to be one of them. He wished she could do his work at the cafe, rather than wasting his time going to places he didn’t want to go to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You want to work during the holidays?” His father asked when he accidentally spoke his thoughts aloud.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Of course. He would never understand,</span>
  </em>
  <span> thought Jean.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Again, everyone was there with a friend. They did their work together; he saw a girl working on algebra while another friend at the same table was studying a novel, but they were talking as usual. He wanted to be like that too. Just imagine, instead of doing his assignments at home and stressing alone, his friends were there with him. It would feel great, even if they stole his coffee.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This has been Jean's problem for a while. He had been estimating that this started since he graduated from university, but he wasn't sure anymore. His timeline was blurry, as were most of the things in his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Feelings of loneliness. The period of time in one’s life that the writers of the young adult book would describe as the destruction to come in the main character’s peaceful, mundane life. The reason for this… he wasn't sure what. Loneliness comes and goes. When he was alone in his room, watching cat videos or listening to his favorite band, he didn’t inherently feel lonely. After not calling his friends for days, he still didn’t feel lonely. Loneliness is a fleeting (but still overwhelming) emotion that comes when he least expects it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe it wasn’t a lack of people, but a lack of atmosphere. Too few actions that meant “I love you,” or the feeling of being stuck in a place where the music is too loud and there isn’t a single cup of water you could see. An atmosphere where all the comfort needs are not met. Maybe that’s where the loneliness comes from.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jean hated summer because it reminded him of how lonely he was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This summer was different, though, because for once, he and his family (including his sister Sasha) would be staying at home. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Finally,</span>
  </em>
  <span> thought Jean. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Finally, I get a well-deserved break from the airport and airplane food that is way too classy for my tongue.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He thought that maybe it would be good for Sasha too, since she had been enthusiastically playing a few rounds of Valorant in her room all day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His cell phone buzzed as Jean listened to his playlist, and he checked the notification on his screen.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Pieck: Babe, did I leave my hoodie in your room?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He smiled, then chuckled, expecting to get this text. He checked into his closet, then answered.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Jean: Yeah, you're lucky Forest hasn't eaten your hoodie yet.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Pieck: Oh my God.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Pieck: I really love you, please keep that hoodie away from your dog.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Jean rolled his eyes. He knew that Forest was a good dog and wouldn’t touch Pieck’s hoodie, but he just </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> to make fun of Pieck’s dislike for dogs. If Pieck had the right to hate dogs, then Jean had the right to poke fun at her.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Jean: Yes, ma’am.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Jean: Any other requests?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Pieck: Give me back my hoodie, perhaps? Come over.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Those words were enough to make Jean leave the house. He put on his clothes—whatever was on top of the pile, this time one of his father’s hand-me-down shirts and his least favourite pair of jeans—and walked out of the bedroom. He made the mistake of making eye contact with his mother, because his mother suddenly tried to start a conversation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The thing about most parents is that they know what they’re doing, and if they don’t, they have a map to guide them. Parenting books, other parents, whatever. The thing about Jean’s parents is that they weren't one of those well-rounded parents. They walk into unknown territory without a map, and every day they fall into quicksand and start ‘winging it’ until they drag themselves out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Today will be a good day, don’t you think?” His mother asked, a bright smile on her face. Jean thought it was forced, a little too forced. Jean knew she meant well, and he was grateful for it—he was grateful to have a mother who cared for him and wanted him to be happy. However, at the same time, he hoped that his mother didn’t have to try too hard. It made him feel guilty every time he saw her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don't know,” Jean shrugged. “Maybe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His mother's happy face immediately fell, even though she tried her best to cover it up. She jokingly scolded him, telling him to be more positive, and he smiled a little in response. A half-hearted smile. They left the conversation there. Even though Jean hated her being positive all the time, he still hated himself even more for raining down on his mother’s sunshine-filled days.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>short chapter, i know. but uni has me in a chokehold right now. i'll try to update regularly, because i won't give up on the idea i have! i won't!<br/>feel free to hit me up on <a href="https://saemiqlon.tumblr.com">tumblr</a> if you'd like! please be kind, always, and have a nice day &lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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